Murder Is Our Mascot (9 page)

"Peculiar Bluffs is only, what, four and a half hours from here? Gabby and I could take a road trip and check things out in person." When Tad merely frowned, Emily rushed on, "In fact, I think I'll call her right now."

She snatched up her cell, pressing the speed dial number for Gabby and hoping that Tad would take the hint and leave. He didn't, instead leaning against the doorjamb in that careless, confident way of his. Emily turned her back on him, moving to the bank of windows on the opposite wall. She was relieved when Gabby answered on the second ring.

"Morning, Sunshine!" Emily chirped. "Hope I didn't wake you." She laughed, knowing her best friend was a notorious morning person. However, rather than the cheery reply she expected, Gabby only grunted.

"You okay?" Emily was immediately concerned.

Gabby yawned loudly. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Was up half the night with Phoebe. She had a bad cough."

"Is she okay?" Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw Tad straighten up.

"She is. I think it's her allergies acting up. I took her in to Urgent Care first thing this morning, and they didn't think she needed any antibiotics. She's sleeping now."

"Sounds like you need to join her. But that's good news, at least. I can certainly relate on the allergy front." Emily waved at Tad, reassuring him that everyone was fine. He relaxed, but still didn't budge.

Gabby continued, "Greg said you called last night. Sorry I didn't get a chance to call you back. Did something happen, or not happen, at Tad's?"

"You know, Vicks on the feet, then cover with socks, really helps with the coughing. Mom used to do that to me all the time when I was a kid."

"Ah, message received. Tad's in the room with you, isn't he?"

"You betcha," Emily laughed.

"Well, I assume you're not calling to discuss the merits of Vicks, so what's up?"

"Actually, I was hoping to talk you into a road trip to Peculiar Bluffs."

"Iowa? How come?"

"Tad found out this morning from Principal Matthews that Jim taught and coached there before coming to Ellington. I'm hoping a quick trip up there could net us some more information to help find Helen and prove her innocence."

"Sure. You know me. I'm always up for a road trip. This can be our second mission."

Emily laughed at Gabby's whispery spy voice. "Great. We can leave after the memorial service today, if you want." Emily mentally crossed her fingers.

"Oh, no, Em. Sorry. I wouldn't want to head out until the morning. Just to make sure Phoebe does better tonight."

"Of course. I totally understand." But damn it all, now she didn't have an excuse to get out of going to the gym with Tad after Jim's service, after all. "I'll pick you up tomorrow. What time?"

"How 'bout seven?"

"In the morning?" Emily croaked. "It's a Saturday!"

"Early bird gets the worm and all that. See you tomorrow." And with a chuckle that sounded slightly sinister to Emily's jaded ears, Gabby hung up.

"Yeah. See you," Emily muttered, turning to see Tad flashing her a toothy grin.

"So we're still on for the gym today, right?"

Emily gave him a silent stare, palming the marble apple one of her students had given her last year. As if sensing her desire to bean him with it, Tad made a quick getaway.

Emily just had time to straighten up her desk and locate the file of materials she had put together on Stevie before Arlene Davis was knocking at her classroom door. Emily hopped up to greet the tall, lean woman, gesturing to a conference table at the back of her room. She preferred to hold conferences back there so that there wasn't the barrier of a desk between her and students or their parents, whichever the case might be.

Arlene took a seat, tucking her exquisite silver Coach purse under her chair. Emily, secretly lusting after that purse, said, "Thank you for coming in today, Ms. Davis."

"Please, call me Arlene," she replied with a careless wave of her hand.

Emily nodded, telling herself that it was ridiculous to feel intimidated by Arlene just because she looked so put together and polished. Or because she was tall enough that, even in her flats, she towered over Emily in her high-heeled boots. This was her domain. She knew her stuff. And they were both pursuing the same goal—to help Stevie.

Emily laid a piece of paper in front of Arlene. "This was the first major writing piece we did this year. The students were to pick a favorite object and then paint a picture of it with words. They were not to name the object in their writing. The average length was two full paragraphs, and as you can see…" Emily trailed off, watching Arlene read through the scant four lines in front of her. Emily could recall them completely without having to look at the page.

Arlene finally looked up, clearly baffled by her son's writing. '"I am brown. I have white laces. I spiral through the air. I am the reason for Stevie's existence.' Well, obviously he's talking about a football, but where's the rest of it?"

"That's it." Emily gestured toward the paper. "I asked him that same question myself, and he told me that was all he had to say."

Arlene's über-professional façade began to crumble slightly. As she reached for the second paper Emily removed from the folder, Emily noticed that her nails were bitten down to the quick. Real estate had to be a stressful job. "This was a personal narrative assignment. The students were to write about an event in their life that helped shape who they are today. Dialogue was to be included."

Arlene read the short paragraph, her fingers trembling slightly.

Moving to Ellington from my old school has completely changed my life. I had to leave all my friends and old football team behind. The best part about Ellington is Coach Layton. Football is my life even if my mom does say, "You spend too much time obsessing over football."

"I don't understand." Arlene flipped the page over as if looking for more, but there wasn't anything.

Arlene briefly pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to relieve a headache. Emily's heart went out to this mom. Raising a child alone, being both mother and father, had to be one of the most difficult jobs in the world. When Arlene looked directly in her eyes, Emily saw the pain there and reached over to pat her nail-bitten hand. "Obviously," she began, "we both want the best for Stevie."

"Yes, yes, of course," Arlene agreed. "At first I
did
think it was football that was taking up too much of his time. But he does love to play. This move has been harder on him than I thought. But as a single parent, I have to go where the money is." She seemed to be pleading with Emily to understand. Emily nodded reassuringly and explained her plan to entice Stevie with a mythology unit.

"That sounds great." Arlene gave her a grateful smile. "I'll have a talk with him too, of course. Stevie is such a smart young man. He's always been a straight A student." Emily tried to hide her surprise at that tidbit of information. Arlene continued, "But I'm afraid the loss of Coach Layton is only going to make things worse."

"Yes, this has really rocked everyone's world. We all feel a bit off-kilter."

"I can't believe that Helen had such a capacity for violence. She was the first person in town to really befriend me. When I came up to the school to enroll Stevie, we discovered we were both avid runners. We've been on several runs and even caught a few movies together. I never would have suspected her." Arlene shook her head as if appalled by her supposed friend's murderous side.

Emily felt her hackles, whatever they were, rise. "I don't believe for one minute that Helen is guilty. She's a wonderful person. I, for one, want to find her safe and sound." Emily stood, signaling the end of their meeting. Her temper was about to boil over, and she knew the results would not be pretty.

Arlene looked slightly taken aback. "Of course, I'm sure you're right, Ms. Taylor. There has to be another explanation." Arlene pushed her own chair back so quickly that she knocked over the purse at her feet. Its contents spilled and scattered everywhere. Emily bent to help her, sorry she'd let her temper, always ready to blaze, fire up while with a parent. Hoping to smooth things over, she gathered up breath mints, a comb, and a compact. Arlene smiled her thanks, and Emily gave a tiny sigh of relief. Checking under the conference table to make sure they'd gotten everything, Emily saw a silver glint. She stretched and came out with a beautiful, enameled silver rectangle.

"How beautiful!" Emily exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever seen such a gorgeous lipstick case."

Arlene gave a light laugh as she tossed the case into her purse. "Yes, it is gorgeous, but it only poses as a lipstick case. It's actually pepper spray. I take it with me when I run. Supposedly, a would-be attacker would be more easily taken by surprise since it looks harmless enough. I can attach it to my keychain, too."

"That's a great idea," Emily enthused. "It's definitely less conspicuous than the bright-pink camo one I carry in my purse. But, of course, if you ever see me out running, it's because I'm being chased by an attacker anyway." Emily was trying to end the conference on a lighter note, reestablishing rapport with Arlene, but realized that in light of recent events, her attempt at humor fell flat. She tried again. "I sure wish the running bug would bite me. My hips would benefit for sure, but I'm afraid I remain bug free." She gave a rueful shrug.

Arlene smiled. "Once you're bitten, you never go back." She held out a hand. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Taylor. I'm sure between the two of us we can get Stevie back on track. There's nothing I wouldn't do for my son."

Emily saw Arlene to the door, hoping she was right. Arlene might be willing to do anything for Stevie, but Emily wondered if Arlene wasn't refusing to acknowledge how truly unhappy Stevie was here in Ellington. The first bell rang, and Emily put her worries about Arlene aside. Today was a short day due to Coach Layton's memorial service in the afternoon, and she had a hundred things to do before then.

* * *

Emily ran nonstop all morning, trying to get her students enthused about their new mythology unit. She felt like she had just gotten started when the final bell of the day rang. She dashed across the hall to the women's restroom to see how much her appearance had deteriorated since she'd left the house that morning. Her hair had only a few wayward wisps, and her makeup was mostly intact, so she considered herself good to go. Smoothing down the pearl-gray sweater dress she had paired with her new shoes, she decided she looked suitably somber. Taking one last calming breath, Emily headed out to make the short walk over to the football field where Jim's memorial service was to be held.

The bleachers were already packed by the time she arrived. The entire football team took up the first couple of rows. Emily climbed higher until she had a better view of everyone in attendance. She noticed that Pastor Dean was behind the podium placed down on the field. She enjoyed hearing Pastor Dean preach, as he had been her own pastor since she was young, but today she was more interested in observing than listening. She had read somewhere that killers often returned to the scene of their crime or showed up at the funerals of their victims. In this case, both were close at hand with the school on one side of the street and the football stadium on the other. Emily carefully scanned the faces of those in her near vicinity. She recognized most of the faces around her, even if she didn't know their names. One of the benefits of living in a small town. Detective Gangly-Arms was there, she noted. He was wearing a very ill-fitting suit, his cuffs showing at the end of each arm. He seemed to be intently observing faces, just as she was. She felt a small sense of triumph that she was on the right track, but her spirits fell again when she noticed Stevie seated across from her. He was clearly upset and swiping furiously at tears. Emily wondered why he wasn't sitting with the rest of the team. It was then she noticed Arlene beside him, a protective arm around his shoulders. Stevie shrugged her off, and Emily assumed that it was Arlene who had insisted Stevie sit with her.

She focused her attention back on the field as the school's jazz band played a haunting rendition of "Amazing Grace." Emily found herself furiously blinking back her own tears as the last notes lingered in the air. The band filed off the field, and Pastor Dean once again moved to the podium. He motioned to the large picture on an easel next to the podium. In it, Coach Layton had his arms raised in victory as his team emptied the contents of the water cooler over his head. Last year, the Eagles had been state champs. They had hoped to repeat that success this year. Emily thought the photo was a touching tribute, but she also wondered where Jim's remains would be buried, especially as he wasn't from this area originally. Pastor Dean addressed that very question, however, when he explained that police officials had yet to locate any surviving relatives. Emily leaned forward, anxious to hear any mention of where home had been for Jim Layton, but Pastor Dean did not give any further details.

Emily couldn't remember Jim ever having mentioned having any family before. She had known he wasn't married and didn't have any kids, of course, but she had somehow gotten the impression that he didn't really have any extended family either, as he never mentioned holiday plans or family visits. But then again, maybe Jim had been reluctant to discuss his personal life at school. While that was a foreign concept to Emily, whose life was an open book to anyone, it didn't mean other people couldn't keep things to themselves. She wondered if Jim had ever mentioned his hometown to Principal Matthews. She'd have to remember to ask Tad to check. She did another quick scan of the crowd for Tad's dark head but didn't see him.

Emily then focused on the service as several players and parents spoke highly of Coach Layton as a teacher, as a coach, and as a person. A couple of veiled references to the guidance or counseling he also gave to his players showed Emily that several people had already bought into the theory that Helen was responsible for the beloved coach's death.

Emily bowed her head for the final prayer by Pastor Dean. While her heart ached for the loss of Jim, her determination to locate Helen and figure out what had really happened that night was foremost in her mind.